


Where the Missing Fell

by LNJames



Category: Professor Marston and the Wonder Women (2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-20 16:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13721685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LNJames/pseuds/LNJames
Summary: I never said the heart desires a lie, I just said it can be ill-equipped to handle the truth.





	Where the Missing Fell

_I loved you with the good and the careless of me._

***

There were days when Elizabeth Holloway Marston reminded her of the rocky island that birthed the woman, desolate and hard and far from everything else, surrounded by the roiling sea on all sides. On those days, Elizabeth was unreachable. She tucked herself away from the others and poured over books, scratching pen to paper in furious waves, closing her eyes to the outside world to ponder the ways of an unfettered heart with its all too-human failings. She was silent, except in her huffs or in her exasperation. Not even Bill could intrude when she was at war with the way the world could cruelly curl its unfair fingers into a fist and block her path. The Isle of Man may have figured out how to exist under such bleak conditions for centuries, but Elizabeth wasn’t made of stone and even the hardest bones need a softer place to land. Still, Olive Byrne, only in her twenty-second year, knew that a woman scorned from her true potential was a dangerous sort. She pressed her shoulder against the frame of the doorway while she watched an impatient hand run through dark hair made unruly by such actions.

“Bloody fucking hell…”

The harsh scrape of wood on wood rattled the empty room as Elizabeth shoved the chair out from its tabled dock and stalked to the window. Olive’s eyes followed long fingers that scratched a spark to life and cigarette smoke clouded around the woman she had fallen for on that very first day, not long ago. Even then, when her ears burned at the sharp warning _if you fuck my husband, I’ll kill you_ , Olive felt the sting differently. Elizabeth was like no one she could have fathomed until the very moment she was conjured in the halls of Radcliffe like an apparition. Where Bill was solid and easy and predictable, Elizabeth’s attention was ephemeral and opaque. It drove her mad.

“Can I get you anything?”

She kept her voice soft. She knew the echoes of this room to be sharp and cold, holding history and knowledge in equal parts, stained into the wood, rubbed upon stone, and etched onto glass. There was always a draftiness that the three of them never commented upon, even in the spring, even in the middle of fevered quests for insight and impassioned tests of theories and ideas. It was like living with the cold shoulder of Harvard, the chill and the slight felt most by the woman staring out at the grey Cambridge sky. Another puff of smoke drifted upwards.

“I suppose it would be too much to ask you to fuck the entire Harvard admissions committee until they finally saw the value of a woman in their PhD program.”

Olive was used to harsh words -- the convent was no exception to a woman’s wrath seeping out in words hissed or whispered. Still.

“Have you tried the appeals board?”

A short hiccupped laugh bounced off the window before Elizabeth turned to look over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry to say I haven’t tried fucking the appeals board yet but that’s a grand idea. Shall we tag team? Your tits and my unrelenting scorn are sure to get me in.”

Olive blinked and looked down, blowing out a breath. She held her tongue for want of a way to win when Elizabeth was deep in one of her moods.The thin edge of cruelty that could slip from Elizabeth was something she still hadn’t gotten used to and wasn’t sure she ever would. The problem was that it came with everything else she needed and craved from this woman. Cruelty and kindness co-existed in the space where all the missing fell, where a wrong turn could mean being lost or being found.

It had only been weeks from her constricted confession, from her coerced truth measured out in the tall scratches of a makeshift machine attached to her unruly heart. _Yes_ she loved him. _Yes_ she loved...her. After that came Elizabeth’s response, a thin flippant blade slicing in: _I’m flattered, I suppose_. It was then that Olive realized that Elizabeth was the worst liar among them all. They say the truth shall set you free, but Olive was still learning what freedom with the Marstons actually meant. Elizabeth wasn’t cruel, she was just afraid.

Heels on wood echoed in the room and Olive closed her eyes when black shoes slipped into her line of sight. It was growing harder to separate the interior from the exterior anymore. She was still a student pursuing a degree at a prestigious university, she was still the daughter of a revolution and the niece of a pioneer for choice. These things counted for something and so when Olive raised her head and looked at Elizabeth, she channeled the calm needed when women stormed.

“Why must you do that?”

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side and looked at her carefully, as if examining a subject and learning cues. She took one final drag from the cigarette she was holding and crushed it out in the small glass bowl on the entryway table. Olive blinked as smoke wafted upwards, taking with it oxygen from lungs she now considered precious.

“Do what?”

The angle of the light and the inches that separated their heights made it hard to clearly see dark eyes. Olive had learned that she could tell more from them than the words that came out of Elizabeth’s mouth so she moved closer. Her step forward led to a nearly imperceptible step back and she felt her own brow come together at the response.

“Why do you talk about me..in those ways? It makes me feel like I’m just some..thing..”

Elizabeth’s mouth opened with a response that she thought better of because Olive watched her swallow it and blink back at her. There was a shift as Elizabeth took a deep breath and came closer, peering down at her.

“You are far from a thing to me, darling.”

It was the first time such a term of endearment had been used between them and it took her aback. They had been _Bill, Olive, Elizabeth_ to each other as they had fallen in to bed together, had spent countless hours learning the curves and muscles that moved them closer. A softer name on Elizabeth’s lips made Olive wonder.

“Then what am I to you?”

She felt the soft exhale of a nervous laugh quickly caught before it betrayed a skittishness she was coming to associate with Elizabeth in moments of doubt. A smile crossed lips followed by arms crossing a chest. Olive was sure that if Elizabeth knew how much her own body gave her away, she’d be mortified.

“You are Ms. Olive Byrne, esteemed student of Radcliffe College, dedicated research assistant of soon to be Dr. William Moulton Marston. You were raised by a pack of nuns who, until just recently, had the good sense to keep you far away from the likes of Bill and I and far from my capricious mouth. Forgive me.”

Olive came closer as Elizabeth stood her ground, still smiling down at her. She nodded but let her eyes wander across the taller woman’s face, searching for something she could not name.

“You’re forgiven, but you haven’t answered my question.”

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, aren’t we the demanding one?”

The room was silent despite the comings and goings of students in the outer hallways, the laughs and quiet din belied the privacy of the Marston’s lab offices. Olive was patient and always had been. It was one of the things that had gotten her through a lonely life, the promise of something more had made it easier to bide her time. Olive was also very observant and that was now proving invaluable. So she waited and she watched and she kept quiet. Elizabeth blinked first and looked away. Olive followed the curve of a long neck, the pulse point throbbing in a steady pattern as Elizabeth spoke and found her eyes again.

“You know, I have found that most people are not prepared for honest answers to questions like yours. Human behavior can be somewhat predictable as we know, but the human heart rarely behaves well with the truth.”

Olive considered this before she shook her head.

“I don’t think that’s true. If it were, your lie detector wouldn’t work because your heart races when you lie.”

Elizabeth smiled at her and stepped closer until they were inches apart. Olive’s eyes flickered down to the buttons on a silk shirt before looking back up when Elizabeth spoke.

“I never said the heart desires a lie, I just said it can be ill-equipped to handle the truth. Those are two very separate things, Olive.”

She wanted to press herself into the body in front of her just to see what would happen, how it would make Elizabeth react to her, if it would cause a reaction at all. Sometimes, the enigmatic woman from a god-forsaken island was too stoic for her own good, too controlled to breathe out a truth or a lie when pressed. So Olive leaned in, her breasts coming into contact with crossed arms covered in a silky pattern. She lifted her eyes and parted her lips to whisper and wait for what she wanted.

“What am I to you?”

It felt like forever, the two of them locked in a duel of their own making, unmoving and unspeaking. But Olive didn’t want to fight, she just wanted something that Elizabeth was too reluctant to give freely so she softened further. Her eyes gave permission for honesty, her body requested attention. Her own breathing quickened when she saw Elizabeth’s pupils grow wider at the press of Olive’s hardened nipples against her crossed arms. Olive wanted to be an open book to be read, her pages turned, and her words devoured. Elizabeth took in a deep breath and lifted a hand, her fingertip sliding along a jawline until it paused on Olive’s bottom lip. When she let out a little sound at the contact, Elizabeth reached behind her, shut the office door, and pushed her against it all in one fluid move. She held her breath but never looked away, feeling the weight of dark eyes holding her in place. Elizabeth’s voice was quiet and thick.

“What you are to me is something I’ve only ever dreamed of and never thought I would find. You are everything I am not. The way you look at me..at us...no one has ever looked at me like that and I dare say no one ever will. You complete who we are, you let us become something you desire, something better because you are a part of us. Who you are to me is my darling Olive, the one who makes me want to…”

Here, Olive’s breath hitched when she felt teeth against her shoulder and her wrists captured and held against the door. The weight of Elizabeth Holloway Marston felt like what she had been missing all those years, something solid and real. She turned her neck to allow more access for warm breath and the sharpness of Elizabeth’s mouth. Fingers circled her wrists and squeezed until she let out a small sound and dark eyes found hers again.

“Can your heart handle how desperately I want and need you? Is this what you want?”

How could she say this was what she wanted and more. Olive blinked and glanced at strong hands holding her in place before she looked back at a woman in the middle of a storm. Elizabeth’s cheeks were flushed, her lips full and the look in her eyes, that flicker of control and the flash of want, made her whimper. Olive nodded, the whispered y _es please_ from her own lips was almost so quiet she could barely hear it herself.

“Say it.”

Elizabeth’s face was close to hers, the space between them gone, lips against lips. Olive heard and felt the blood flowing under Elizabeth’s skin, the way her pulse quickened and her breathing grew short and fast. It was intoxicating, the power she had over someone so powerful, the way Olive could threaten the resolve and the control and the reserve someone like Elizabeth maintained made her dizzy. And focused.

“Yes please.”

And with those sure words, Olive sank to her knees. She heard Elizabeth gasp at her descent so to help steady the other woman, she placed Elizabeth’s hands in her hair. Olive looked up and swallowed at the darkening look in eyes that held hers from above and fingers that gripped tightly into her hair. She let her hands trail over heeled shoes and stockinged legs, pushing up the hem of a skirt as she went.

“Olive..”

No woman was an island unto herself and Olive felt the blood rush to her cheeks when she pressed her face into dampened silk and heated skin. Elizabeth let out a whimper, soft and needy, as one hand left Olive’s head and landed against the door to keep herself upright. Elizabeth’s scent tested her patience, one hand holding up a skirt while the other pushed aside silk. The wood floor was rough and comforting against her knees when she placed her lips softly against Elizabeth, wetness quickly covering her chin.

“Fuck..”

Olive heard that rasped word just as she felt her head tugged in and she opened her mouth wider, taking in more wetness and warmth and the scent of want. There was something liberating about being held in place, on her knees, working her mouth against Elizabeth and hearing the rewards of that labor in breathless pants and soft cries. Hips moved against her, pressing down and rubbing wetness against her tongue and chin. Olive kept up the pace, her face fully covered by Elizabeth, making sure her lips sucked and her tongue probed in time to the way the woman above her moved. She opened her eyes to look up and saw Elizabeth’s forehead pressed against her own hand on the door looking down at her. The look of desperate, naked need was the reason she was on her knees now, it was everything she had wanted when she first saw Elizabeth Marston stroll into her office as if she owned the world. Right now, Olive held that world against her lips and to prove it, she slipped two fingers inside and immediately felt them gripped in warmth and wetness.

“Oh fuck...Olive...yes…”

She smiled, to herself, and kept her tongue steady and began the slow and deliberate pace of slick penetration, fingers moving deep in and out. Elizabeth’s hips were now having a hard time controlling themselves, grinding down on Olive’s mouth and fingers while her hair and face were pulled in tight. Olive sincerely hoped that no co-eds intended to visit for office hours because Elizabeth was having a hard time keeping her moans held in check. Her fingers slid over terrain that changed under them, smoothness and ridges, until she curved deep inside and heard Elizabeth gasp loudly.

“Please...please..don’t stop…”

Olive held her mouth steady, tongue flat against Elizabeth while she rubbed against her and honestly, she had all the time in the world. She was a patient person. But Elizabeth was far past the point of waiting and the increasing slickness and heat and roughness against her fingertips told Olive that she was close. She glanced up one last time to see Elizabeth’s eyes squeezed shut, her breath held, hips grinding down against her mouth until there was no more time left between them. Olive felt and heard Elizabeth’s release, the tightening around her fingers and the wetness that covered her mouth and hand. It was glorious, the stuff of exaltations if one were the praying kind and since she was on her knees, Olive worshiped at the altar of a different goddess now. When the last grasp tightened around Olive’s fingers and a hand loosened in her hair, she pulled back just in time to watch Elizabeth crumple to her own knees, arms akimbo around Olive’s shoulders and breath still coming fast.

“Holy fuck…”

Olive would excuse the sailor’s language because right now, Elizabeth Marston was a beautiful mess and she was the one responsible for it. While she had been the one on her knees willingly, the act of submitting to someone else was not solely reserved for her. Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed rosy and a smile came to her lips when she pushed the unruly locks of hair out of her eyes and looked at Olive. She smiled when Elizabeth’s fingers and thumb wiped away the slickness on her chin and leaned into kiss her, deeply and thoroughly before pulling back.

“You, my darling, are a marvel...a wonder...a woman who makes me want to tell the truth.”

Olive Byrne blinked and smiled as she pondered the future. Would there be space in this world for what she felt for the two Marstons? What would it mean and who would she be to both of them separately and together? Elizabeth, softened now, looked at her gently, both of them still in a heap on the floor of the lab space with Bill expected to meet them for dinner soon. All Olive knew was that she wanted a great many things in this world and she wanted to make sure they happened. She reached for a hand and held it to her chest, her soft words floating between them.

“My heart wants you.”


End file.
